Am I the only person on Earth who actually loooooooved Brit on the VMAs last week? I mean, am I? Because I know that we could have 5,000 conversations/debates about Britney’s performance of “Gimme More” (was she fat, was she on Demerol, is her career now officially over or does she have one more chance, was Sarah Silverman too harsh, etc.) But actually, I don’t want to have any of those conversations.
Because I totally loved Britney Spears’ performance on the VMAs. I mean this sincerely.
What I loved about Britney’s performance is how wonderfully not professional it actually was. There was something so tender, so vulnerable in her nervous shimmying. Something so painfully sad about her seemingly naïve understanding of how she would be perceived by the celebrity audience in her sparkly bikini. Something so real about the fake tan, the bad weave, the heavy eye makeup, the wobbly, newborn kittenish way she wandered around the stage looking lost and confused. I mean, it was like a chapter out of Jackie Susann’s Valley of the Dolls up there. You wanted to hug the poor kid.
I’ve been told that the reason some men frequent strip clubs is they have a Prince Charming complex – they believe the girls on stage in their vinyl platforms need saving, and they are just the men to do the job. Perhaps watching Britney Spears perform at the 2007 VMAs is the closest I will ever come to having this experience. Because in the end, when you think about it, Britney is just a single mom with two kids, trying to make it happen for herself as she stumbles around a stage half naked. How can your heart not be breaking for her? Granted, it was the VMAs in Vegas and not The Perfect 10 Gentlemen’s Club in, like, Oklahoma City or wherever. But still, you got the same kind of feeling.
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the mission of the Houston Press. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Houston’s stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
Don’t get me wrong. I totally appreciated the snazziness of foxy Chris Brown jumping on the tables, the loveliness of the gorgeous Rihanna belting out that song about her umbrella, and the ludicrousness of Justin Timberlake attempting once again to be the blackest man in show business. But none of them could hold a candle to my girl Britney Spears. Because when you think about it, last Sunday Britney wasn’t staging a comeback or having a meltdown. She was just being who she was always meant to be. -- Jennifer Mathieu